TR # 4 - Caterpilling

Of course it's boiling hot in New York as well. And I'm actually worse than the typical Japanese tourist: New York in less than two days, is it even doable?! My first experience on New York trains puts me in a '60s atmosphere: wooden interiors, the controller wearing a peaked cap, seats with moveable backrest (to seat in the right direction!). As soon as I come out from the Penn Station I feel like I'm in the middle of a bunch of stereotypes: skyscrapers, crazy traffic -but only because there are thousands of yellow taxis- behind me the Madison Square Garden of many famous concerts (Bon Jovi, just to name one ...). While I proceed in the excruciating heat I see Macy's, the Empire State Building of which I willingly ignore the hour-and-a-half queue to climb to the top, and the Grand Central Station which competes with certain scenarios from Harry Potter. Contrary to what people say, the subway is not complicated -even if, in fact, you can easily walk your way around New York- and it accepts the Italian ATM card to buy the tickets as well... wonderful! My plan includes a wide detour to go see a skyscraper unknown to most people, but for those who have read The Dark Tower by Stephen King, it's a must: at 2 Hammarskjold Plaza there's the Dark Tower of our world, aye Roland. Once I paid my respect to this milestone, I dive back into another stereotype: the hotdog stand on the street, and what a street! The fifth, or rather the famous 5th avenue. A job to be taken into account, that of the stand in Manhattan, a bit like the "bar on a tropical beach". My trip continues at the Rockefeller Center -the one with the famous ice-rink- and the nearby Starbucks to refresh myself in the heat of the City. This brings me to the well-known Times Square, and I wonder if the Americans are copying Piccadilly Circus or vice versa. After a due stop at the toy store, where there is also a ferris wheel ... and even here, who copied whom? Hamleys or Toysrus? - I relax in the dining area -basically, a series of tables and chairs in the middle of Times Square. Next to me sits an elderly Japanese lady knitting, then a boy approaches our table to lay down the oiliest McDonald's bag I've ever seen and eat his Big Mac on the spot. I end the first day in Central Park, just one look and then I'm off to some well-deserved rest. All in all, I have debunked many of my prejudices about the City: you can breathe a beautiful air of life, enthusiasm and not -as I thought- of hustle and hurry.

The second day is dedicated to Lower Manhattan, and I naively buy a ticket to the Statue of Liberty: the queue to board the ferry practically starts in Brooklyn, but it's enlivened by performances of various street artists. Fortunately the heat is tempered by the air, yet my shoulders are colored with a lobster-amaranth shade that's all but reassuring. The security controls are just like those at the airport, with the metal detector ... and of course try and guess who makes the alarm go off four times?! Italians. From the ferry I admire New York's skyline, and there are already hints at the chasm left by the Twin Towers. We arrived at Liberty Island, where I discover that the statue is not as small as they describe it, indeed! Maybe it's because the base is extremely high, but the whole monument is impressive to say the least. I continue to Ellis Island, where I fall in and out of sleep while Gene Hackman's voice tells us about the incomparable generosity of this country which has received millions of dirty stinking sick poor immigrants, long live America! And I couldn't describe the disgusted look on the guide's face while answering "Italians" to the question of which people had brought the largest number of immigrants to New York.

Coming back, a nice summer shower catches me by surprise and makes me regret the umbrella, safely inside the suitcase. Taken cover at Starbucks, I then go to Wall Street, which is nothing but a very busy street, and to Ground Zero. I very strongly looked forward to and feared the meeting with this place, because my 9/11 was the watershed date between the naivety and innocence of my 17s and the rude awakening to discover that no, America was not perfect, the American dream was a hoax, there were those who hated America and those whom in turn America hated. It was the moment when we lost all the serenity, the neutral look on anyone with a beard and a turban, the serenity of going out alone at night, the relaxed feeling of traveling without wondering what everybody carried in their bags. These days in the U.S., oddly enough, gave me back a bit of that lightness: the peace of mind of "come what may, it'll be a success," the open-mindedness that made me sit on a guard-rail in the middle of nowhere, at night, and chat with strangers without fear. Ground Zero takes your breath away. That's right, you're looking around and then suddenly you're in apnea. A void that can not be explained, because if I watch the images from 9 years ago and compare them with what I see now, I cannot explain how all the other buildings can still be standing. The conspiracy theories are gaining more and more appeal. There are two cranes, nobody knows to build what, it's not clear and it will be revealed only on the day of the tenth anniversary. But there are two American flags draped in mourning hanging from the cranes, for eternal memory... As if the void was not enough, to take your breath away.